


Broken

by aDarkerKnight



Category: Marvel 616
Genre: Angst, F/M, Grief, M/M, Past Relationship(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-01
Updated: 2008-08-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 23:22:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/231008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aDarkerKnight/pseuds/aDarkerKnight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve is gone; Tony tries to cope the only way he knows how to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/profile)[**bradygirl_12**](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/)'s [2008 DCU Fic/Art Mood Ring Challenge](http://bradygirl-12.livejournal.com/252686.html).  
>  Prompt: Steve/Tony - grieving.

"Bastard!" Tony unexpectedly mumbled under his breath.

The blonde woman he'd been screwing suddenly stopped writhing under him. "What?" she asked, eyes wide in confusion.

Reality seemed to hit Tony right between the eyes. He'd picked up some girl at a cocktail party - he hadn't the faintest idea who she was, only that she'd been more than happy to fall into bed with him. And that was precisely why he'd brought her here, for an evening of booze and sex. Completely mindless, which was the whole point of this.

He'd been doing this a lot, over the past few weeks; the number of girls he'd been with since... since that day... had grown exponentially. He didn't care what their names were, how many zeros were attached to their yearly income, or even their bra size - as long as they let him fuck their brains out. Or rather, let him fuck his own out. He couldn't have cared less about any of them anyway. They merely served a purpose - and kept his reputation alive and well. This was all he needed.

Apparently, this one wasn't doing as good a job of it as the previous ones, though. Tony had somehow managed to forget he was even with her, lost in his thoughts - dark thoughts, the kind he needed the girls to rid him of in the first place.

"Backward," he told her. "Turn. Backward." It was the only thing he could think of that might have made any sense at all.

The girl gave him a shocked look. "You... what? You want me to...?"

Frustrated, Tony pulled away from her and, in one swift move, rolled her over on her stomach, spreading her legs wide before slipping back into her wet entrance. She made no further protests, moaning her approval instead when his erratic thrusting resumed.

Tony rolled off the girl some minutes later, after spilling himself into the condom's reservoir tip. He was faintly aware of her complaints - he'd apparently left her just moments before her own orgasm - but he couldn't have cared less. Why should she get any satisfaction from this, when he himself did not? When he got nothing out of it but a slight sweat, his genitals covered in viscid fluids, and five short seconds of oblivion. She'd failed miserably at providing that, anyway.

"Leave," he instructed her as he lay on his back beside her, an arm resting over his eyes.

"What? Now?" she protested, outraged by the treatment she'd been getting from him. "You can't be serious, it's--"

"I said _leave_ ," Tony reiterated, his voice low and menacing. "Now."

The girl scrambled off the bed, suddenly afraid for her safety. She gathered her clothes in a bundle and ran out of the room, leaving the great Mr. Stark alone in the darkness of his 2,000 square feet master bedroom.

This was no longer helping, Tony realized. Alcohol, sex - it wasn't helping anymore. And if that didn't help, he knew that nothing else would.

Ever since that day, just over a month ago, there had been a void in Tony's life. A huge, gaping hole in the shape of Steve Rogers. And it would never be filled again.

How dare Steve get himself killed? How dare he! He had no right! If anyone was supposed to die first, it should have been Tony - heart condition and all. It should have been him; Steve wasn't supposed to just _die_. Not now. Not ever.

Except he had.

He was gone, and there was nothing Tony or anyone else could ever do to change this. Steve wasn't there anymore. All that was left of him was a uniform hanging in a glass display, and a few random memories, etched forever into Tony's memory. Fleeting images: a smile, a touch, a word whispered in his ear - reminders of a life, of a love, that had been brutally taken away.

"You bastard!" Tony shouted desperately. "You weren't supposed to leave me. You weren't supposed to leave me alone like this!"

There, in the dark, his heart shattered.

And Tony finally allowed himself to cry.

~The End~  



End file.
